


Know Yourself

by antisocialhood



Series: Misadventures [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Calum's only in it for a few lines, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, Hehehe, M/M, Multi, Schmoop, Smut, Top!Michael, ashton's such a slut, bottom!Ashton, bottom!Luke, i added smut, top!ashton, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:25:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antisocialhood/pseuds/antisocialhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clear, empty bottle of lube sat next to Michael's bowl and Ashton's gaze was heavy on Luke's guilty face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> Again, a shitty summary, but this is a shitty story, but here go.
> 
> I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, FRIENDS.
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s the moment when Ashton drops the empty lube bottle on the kitchen table beside Michael’s bowl of froot loops that Luke starts squirming, all five senses clicking onto every aspect of Ashton and tuning out Michael’s screechy whines of ‘what the fuck I’m eating’ and Calum muttering about limits before disappearing out of the kitchen. Michael stays, shoveling another spoonful of colourful bites into his mouth, eyes flickering between Luke and Ashton and a smile breaking over his lips when Ashton fixes Luke with a hard stare.   
  
“Well?” Ashton asks, nodding towards the clear bottle. His eyebrows are raised and his mouth is spread in a grimace. He looks disappointed and Luke can’t help but bow his head, feeling a thick lump in his throat and sudden inability to swallow. “Care to explain?”

Luke shakes his head, feels Michael kick his leg. He shoots the older boy a glare, knows it’s pitiful but could give two shits. Ashton’s glaring at him now, probably wants to put Luke over his knee now, probably would too even though Michael’s in the room. Michael kicks him again, raises the spoon to his mouth and arches his pierced brow, lips quirking up. “Enlighten us, Luke. What’ve you been up to with that bottle?” He reaches across the table and grabs Luke’s hand, inspects it and rubs his fingers over the soft pads of the blondes fingertips. “Or better yet, what’ve you been up to with your fingers?”

“Stop.” Luke mumbles weakly, drawing his hand back like a wounded animal and lowering his gaze. He slides off of his chair, shuffles out from behind the table in his fuzzy blue slippers and makes his way to the counter. Two sets of eyes follow him, burn into his back and leave him unstable and stiff. He fusses around with a box of cereal, can hear the scrape of a chair being pulled out across the tiled floor and the sound of Michael’s spoon against the bottom of his cereal bowl.

Ashton lets out a long huff of air, clearly annoyed. “Luke.” The blonde moves back to the table, slinks almost, and drops down in his seat as Michael pushes the milk carton over. He’s grinning, enjoying the way Luke’s burrowing into himself from Ashton’s measly attempt at staying under control. Luke keeps his gaze on the bowl in front of him, studies the little marshmallow bites that don’t seem all that lucky at the moment. He stirs the dry cereal around a few times and waits.

Michael drops his spoon into the bowl, stainless steel clanging against stoneware before drumming his fingers against the tabletop and letting out a loud hum. “You do have nice fingers, Luke. There’s no shame in putting them to good use.” He grins, nudges Ashton’s shoulder teasingly. Ashton narrows his eyes, jaw clenched and ticking. He’s a masterpiece when he’s angry and Luke’s reveling in the fact - Michael seems to be too as he stares at the oldest boy with a slightly unhinged jaw before turning back to Luke, clearing his throat loudly and throwing the blonde a pointed look. “Or was it a toy?”

There’s an eerie moment of silence before Luke coughs, shakes his head quickly, cheeks stained a harsh red colour. Ashton snorts, drums his fingers on the tabletop. When he speaks, his voice sounds far away, growly too, almost possessive and detached. “Do you like your fingers, Luke? More than my cock?” He hums and stops the drumming. Luke chews at his bottom lip as he stirs the cereal around some more, eyes darting from the bowl to Ashton’s hands.

“Well?” Michael finally says, voice hinting at exasperation. He narrows his eyes at Luke, grinning. “Aren’t you going to punish him or something?” He throws the words at Ashton, eyes locked on Luke's.

When Ashton makes no move to stand up, doesn’t draw his eyes from Luke’s face, Michael continues speaking, voice low and scratchy. Luke’s heard his tone far too many times when they share hotel rooms and Michael’s got someone on the phone, the gravelly I’m trying to turn you on echoing from his throat. It leaves Luke’s mouth dry and his eyes wide, anticipation clawing at his throat.

“Look at that bottle, Ash, it’s empty. The sides aren’t even slick anymore.” Michael tuts like he’s ashamed, closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Luke’s been riding his fingers more often than not, and when he has you? Your nice, thick cock to stretch him open and leave him begging. You’re not gonna show him who he belongs to?”

“Shut up.” Luke tries. He sits rigid in his seat, bowl of cereal forgotten and hands clenched tightly on top of the table. His heart’s in his mouth, skipped right past his throat to leave him choking and tongue tied. Ashton’s staring at him, eyebrows knit and lips in an angry grimace, his nose flares every few breaths too, leaves Luke nervous.

Michael doesn’t stop though, if anything he amps it up. “Bet you he’s got another bottle hidden under the mattress, probably used some of it last night too. You fucked him though, didn’t you? Cal and I could hear you in the shower, hear him beg for you like a little bitch in heat and this is how he repays you? Gets himself off again?” He directs his next words to Luke, throws a spiteful look at him. “Isn’t his cock enough?” As if for effect Michael reaches over, drags his palm over Ashton’s crotch slowly and hums. “Feels like enough for me.”

Luke looks away, hates how his cheeks are hot, his neck following suit. He squirms in his chair, strains to ignore how his cock is hardening at Michael’s words, at the fact that he touched Ashton the way Luke did and Ashton had made no move to stop him. The next words that fall from his lips are dangerous and teetering on helpless, leaves Michael wide eyed and Ashton red-cheeked.

“Maybe it’s not enough anymore.” He regrets them as soon as they’re out of his mouth. Ashton seems to fall into himself, lips falling into a pout and gaze settling on the table as he slumps down some, shoulders curling in like protection. “Ash-”  


“Shut up, Luke.” Michael snaps. He’s glaring at Luke as he drapes his arm over Ashton’s shoulder, free hand reaching down to palm the older boy through his sweatpants. Michael presses a wet kiss to Ashton’s cheek, murmurs incoherent words in his ear and slowly slips his hand under the waistband of his sweats. “You’re plenty, Ash. You can fuck me anytime.” Ashton nods slowly, won’t look up though, but clearly stiffens before melting into Michael’s side, lips parted slightly.

It’s a silent sting, Ashton agreeing - accepting Michael’s proposal for the two of them to fuck - and Luke chews on his bottom lip harder, wanting to make it bleed. Ashton breathes out softly, a tiny puff of air that Luke’s so familiar to feeling on his neck that to see Ashton’s chest shudder even the slightest from some other reason but him leaves an ache in his body. The oldest boy finally looks up, melted honey coloured eyes meeting Luke’s own crystalline blue ones.

He speaks softly, voice hinting at anger but still weak. “Stand up.” Ashton hums as Luke scrambles to his feet, knocking the chair back in his haste. He turns his face slightly to Michael’s, torso shorter than the black haired boy, leaving him looking up a bit. Time moves slowly for Luke, eyes caught on Michael’s lips meeting Ashton’s softly, moving fluently against each other as Michael’s hand pauses in his pants. Ashton pulls back slowly, lips parted. He doesn’t look at Luke as he speaks, instead keeps his eyes focused on Michael’s. “Go bend over the counter.”

Luke’s a mess, tripping over his feet to get over to the counter. He keeps his eyes from Michael and Ashton, can hear their lips sliding together but doesn’t want to see it too. As he leans over the counter, he can hear them talking quietly, shoulders slumping because they’re not kissing.

“Spread your legs,” It’s Michael’s voice, the deep scratchy one from earlier. Luke complies quickly, stares at the white tiles of the wall as he perches on his elbows. There’s a kick to his feet, knocking them open further and a tight grip landing on his hip. He cranes his neck to look at the owner of the hand. It’s Ashton, felt like him too, tight and demanding.

Ashton huffs, pushes Luke’s face back to look at the wall before grabbing his pyjama bottoms. He yanks them down, leaves them pooled around Luke’s ankles, ass now bare. “Have you thought about buying more underwear?”

Luke shakes his head and Michael snorts. He sounds fairly close, probably right behind Ashton, watching everything over the curly haired boys shoulder. The flat palm of Ashton’s hand slides from his hip to his ass, cups the supple flesh and kneads it.

“Didn’t know you were an ass guy, Ash.” Michael remarks. His voice is muffled slightly, leads Luke’s to look back again. Michael’s mouthing at Ashton’s throat, tongue trailing over one of the prominent veins on the right side of his neck. Their eyes meet and Michael’s hold a smirk, he sucks hard on the skin of Ashton’s throat, draws a deep groan from the oldest boy. It sounds weird, feels weird to be watching it play out, to not feel the vibrations against his lips or to hear it up close. Ashton’s hand nudges his face back and Luke whines out lowly. “Don’t cry, baby.” Michael says teasingly. “You’re just not enough anymore, he’s got me now.”

Ashton doesn’t bother correcting Michael, leaves his words to hang above Luke’s head. “No,” Luke says, just about whimpers out. “He’s mine. I’m his.” Ashton drops his hand on Luke’s shoulder, rubs it soothingly almost, other hand resting on Luke’s ass. His breath is shallow, close to a panting sound and Luke wants to turn around. He can hear Michael hum, sounds throaty and unconvinced. “I don’t share.” Luke continues. He pushes back against Ashton’s hands, turns over to face the two of them.

Michael’s behind Ashton, has his pants pushed partially down his thighs and his hand wrapped loosely around the oldest boys cock, other hand splayed across Ashton’s shirt-clad chest. His body moves against Ashton’s, grinds closely - slowly - and grins wickedly at Luke. “You don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Ashton breaths slowly, tips his head back onto Michael’s shoulder and the black haired boy seems to revel in the power he holds over him. Michael nips at Ashton’s earlobe softly, eyes trained on Luke. The blonde stands in front of them, hands braced on the counter as if he’s ready to hoist himself up onto the ledge, and pants around his ankles, cock hard and standing proudly. Michael can’t help but eye him up, can’t help whisper, “Aren’t you going to punish him?” in Ashton’s ear, fingers tight around his cock now, tugging at the swollen flesh. Ashton hums, blinks slowly before creasing his brows.

“Fuck yourself on your fingers.” It comes out a growl, leaving Luke open mouthed and Michael grinning. He blushes, harder than he already is and lets out a small sound, something close to a plea. Ashton shakes his head, brushes off Luke’s words. “Bend over the counter and fuck yourself.”

Michael pumps his cock faster, mouths at his neck now, lets his tongue trail up the taut skin. “C’mon Luke, wanna see you wreck yourself for us.” Luke shudders under Michael’s heavy gaze and Ashton’s half-hearted one before turning around slowly and bending back over. The counter isn’t low enough for his liking but as he turns to around to voice his opinions, the words don’t come out, they can’t. Michael’s got his pants down his legs, boxers too and is rutting against Ashton slowly, he raises his eyebrows when he catches Luke’s gaze, nods for him to go.

“I don’t have any lube.” Luke says quietly. He’s turned back to face the wall, pushes his body down and his ass out, wiggles down comfortably.

“Okay.” says Ashton. Luke turns to look at him. Michael’s face is buried in his neck, the younger boys hips jolting forward quickly. Ashton’s mouth is open slightly, hand wrapped loosely around the curve of Michael’s neck and head, it’s intimate and Luke’s heart swells in uncomfort. “You seemed to have used enough up to last you a good few years. Think you can wet your fingers for this one.”

Michael hums in agreement, eyes flashing. Luke flushes again, turns back and brings his right hand up, dips three of his fingers into his mouth. There are harsh pants behind him, broken curses and loud whines. It eggs Luke on, makes him want to match them. He pulls the digits from between his lips, trails saliva onto the countertop before spreading his legs wide and reaching between them. His fingers feel familiar, as they should seeing as he’s used them for god knows how long, against the flesh of his ass. Their breathing is rushed and Luke wants to turn around, watch Michael rut his body against Ashton’s, fingers wrapped around the oldest boys cock, tugging him off like it was his job. He stays facing the wall, burrowing his face in the crook of his elbow, fingers pressed harshly into his cheeks. It’s the sudden realization that Michael’s naked - has his cock against Luke’s boyfriends ass, probably in between his cheeks grazing against his hole, so fucking close to being inside - that has Luke pushing a finger into his body, burying the digit in thick, warm heat and stilling. He presses deeper, feels the rigid walls in his body tight around his finger and almost plead for another. His cock hangs heavy between the counter and his body, the slight pressure just under tantalizing, but enough that Luke knows he’ll be grinding against the lipped edge soon enough.

“Look so good, baby.” Ashton chokes out. His eyes roam Luke’s body, leaves the blonde preening under his words. Luke’s knuckle deep within himself, curls his finger slightly, breath catching in his throat and pushes a second finger in alongside the first. It’s a tight squeeze, leaves Luke droopy and panting harshly, sliding his fingers within his body slowly.

There are hands on his hips, tight, warm and slightly sticky. “Turn around,” it’s Michael with that stupid low voice again. He runs a hand over Luke’s arm, follows it down to where his fingers still move within him, press softly to the puckered skin, grins and leans in to press his lips to Luke’s shoulder. Luke whimpers, chokes on the sound and rears back, presses his ass firmly to Michael’s palm, works at getting his fingers inside of him.

“Michael, please.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since he’d bent over the counter and worked his fingers into his body. He’s out of breath, face flat against the body-heated countertop and fingers moving steadily within him. He’s searching too, can’t seem to find that sweet spot in him that’s begging to be touched. Michael’s grip tightens and Luke groans reels in the harsh touch, slowly pulls his fingers from his body, holds down a breathy whine at the sudden cool emptiness echoing through his lower body. He turns slowly, presses his back to the counter edge and struggles to steady his breathing. Michael’s in his face, noses almost brushing and a tight lipped smile playing at his mouth. His body’s blocking Luke’s view of Ashton and the blond whines out, reaches out to grab the sleeve of Michael’s t-shirt and tug him out of the way.

Michael swats at Luke’s hand, eyebrow quirked up teasingly. “I want you bent over the table.” He smiles and laces his arm around Luke's hips, tugs him close and buries his nose in the younger boys throat, breaths in deeply “You smell like sex and Ashton.” Hands slip around to cup his ass, tugging him close. Michael’s cock slid against his, hot and hard, slightly sticky too - just like his hands were - and Michael begins grinding his body up against Luke’s. “Over the table.” He breaths out on Luke’s neck before stepping back.

Luke moves over to the table, eyes latched on Ashton sitting on one of the chairs, legs spread slightly andfist tight around hiscock. He’s kicked his sweats off, leaving them a pile under the table. Ashton grins, pats the table beside him and waits for Luke to bend over, spreading his legs with a quick kick and standing up, moving behind him. Luke can feel him, see his feet on the tiled floor and hear the soft sounds that come from his mouth directed at Michael.

“On your back.” Ashton says, stepping back. Luke slowly stands, turns around and slides onto the table on his back. He’s watching Ashton, how his boyfriend slowly moves in between his legs, left hand grappling at Luke’s spread thigh and pushing him back slowly, perching his feet on the edge of the tabletop. His older hand held his cock, tugged himself off a few times before bringing his member down to Luke’s hole, grinning all the while as he pushed in, taking no time to bottom out, allowing Luke’s ass to swallow him.

Luke shakes, body trembling as Ashton enters him smoothly. He shudders, reaches up to grasp Ashton’s arms, tug him down for a kiss. The older boy resists, lips playing up in a smirk. Michael moves behind him, pets Ashton’s hair back from his forehead and kisses his throat. Ashton melts into his touch, hips jolting forward suddenly, leaving Luke arching from the table, and turns his face, allows Michael to connect their lips. Luke whines out, a tiny, weak sound. He pulls harder at Ashtons biceps, watches as Ashton pulls away from Michael with a soft huff and knit brows. Ashton thrusts forward and Luke cries out brokenly, eyes watering slightly.

“Ash-” He starts only to have Ashton lean over him quickly, burying his face in the youngest boys throat, hand pushing his shirt up. Michael’s hand is taut on his shoulder, forceful and tight, hips undulating forward against Ashton’s body. The oldest boy let out a loud whine, mouths at Luke’s neck and rocks his own hips forward. Luke gapes, mouth open wide before he groans, Ashton sliding in further with every thrust of Michael’s hips. He’s never topped Ashton before, the option’s been given but he’d never taken advantage of it but now, seeing how his eyes squeeze shut tightly and his hands clench on air, and the broken sounds, it’s all Luke can do to hope he’ll get the opportunity again. “P-Please.” His own words break, come out weak and delicate as Michael pounds into Ashton, and like a domino effect, Ashton’s body slams into Luke’s, hitting the little bundle of nerves his fingers hadn’t touched earlier.

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” Michael says - growls - fisting a hand through Ashton’s hair, the other still pressed against his shoulder, holding him firmly against Luke’s body. “Both of you are.” He breaths out unsteadily, thrusts slowing. Ashton lets out a pitiful cry, an echo reverberated by Luke at the lack of stimulation going through his body. He ruts up, has no room to squeeze a hand between his and Ashton’s body comfortably to jerk at his achingly swollen cock and thes light friction Ashton presses onto it is barely there, only touching his cock every few times. Ashton’s stomach is hot and hard, gives Luke a nice feeling on his cock. He presses up, moves underneath Ashton and can feel the oldest boy sliding within him from his movements, can hear the sound of Michael’s thighs slapping against Ashton’s as he picks up his pace once again, pushing Luke backwards The blonde’s close, can taste it, feel the swirling tightening feeling in his tummy and he’s chasing it, hand moving rapidly as he strokes himself over the edge.

He comes with a weak cry, splattering his chest with white and probably Ashton’s too. The older boy doesn’t seem to care as he dips down to catch Luke’s lips in his own, their bodies both still moving. Luke’s lost all of his air, is surviving on Ashton’s hauntingly sweet kiss and the harsh strokes from the oldest boys body, is waiting for his body to start moving again, for the sensitivity to set in over his bones. A few thrusts more and Ashton’s gasping out Michael’s name, choking on it and the feel of the black haired boys cock within him, leaves Luke wondering just how good Michael is at fucking. Michael’s still moving fairly quickly, chasing his own release and Luke realises that Ashton came in him, that the wet sensation running along his ass cheeks is Ashton’s come and the thick, wet sound is his cock still sliding in him.

“Oh god,” Michael says, chants almost, thrusts becoming sloppy and unregulated. He’s teetering, Luke can see it in his face, how he squeezes his eyes and his once taut grip in Ashton’s hair loosens. He whines loudly, pants for a moment before laying his upper body on top of Ashton. Luke’s still beneath them, chews at his lower lip as Ashton’s cock moves in him still. He’s feeling it, the dull ache that comes with a good fucking.

“You’re more than enough.” He says softly, reaches up to caress Ashton’s cheek. Michael scoffs, trailing it into a giggle as pulls out of Ashton, letting the curly haired boy collapse fully onto Luke. The oversensitivity is there, sends unwanted tingles through his body like waking up a sleeping body part. He waits for Ashton’s lips to brush over his, likes the intimate relations that flow in those tiny seconds.

But Michael’s pulling Ashton back, telling him to pull out. Ashton follows his orders, slumps against the black haired boy slightly as if to catch his balance - both mentally and physically - before clambering onto the table, straddling Luke’s stomach as the blonde had lowered his legs to dangle above the floor. He’s sitting in the sticky mess on Luke’s chest, doesn’t seem to mind all that much though.

“Your ass looks great, Ash.” Michael remarks moving to sit in the chair closest to their bodies. He rests his face in his hand, leans on the tabletop. “You ever think about bottoming more?” His words are light, airy and teasing and Luke finds himself smiling when Ashton nods his head almost vehemently, lips turned up in a grin.

“Maybe,” Ashton starts, looking from Michael to Luke with wide eyes and played up innocence. Luke leans up on his elbows, ears perked as Ashton splays his hands out softly on Luke’s chest, trails his fingers along the soft but defined curves of muscle. “You could both fuck me, at the same time.”

Luke groans, lets his head slam back against the table as Ashton bites his lower lip, leaning over to kiss Michael. He’s greedy, tugs Ashton partially off of Luke’s lap and into his own. Michael shakes his head quickly though, pulls back from Ashton and pets his bangs back. “Wanna fuck Luke first.”

And Luke can’t hold in the groan that falls from his lips when Ashton agrees quickly telling Michael, “he’s really good when you pull his hair, but if you wanna really fuck him up, bite him.”

**  
**  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure what to say, but I had so much fun writing this! I hope everyone enjoyed.
> 
> Don't forget to hit me up at @/antisocialhood on tumblr!
> 
> Have a great weekend,
> 
> Much love,
> 
> x


End file.
